


But I don't want your way, I want mine.

by bloodrubi



Series: tøp quote prompts [1]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, My First Fanfic, One Shot, Suicide Attempt, Treebros, but i still tried, dear evan hansen - Freeform, dont hate me, i did most of this at like 2 in the morning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 16:04:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15867024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodrubi/pseuds/bloodrubi
Summary: No, Evan tried to say. No, no, no, no no no no no. But just because he couldn’t get the words out loud enough for anyone who wasn’t sitting right next to him to hear, didn’t mean he wasn’t going to keep on mouthing the word like some sort of silent, frenzied chant. Or at least until he felt a touch on the forearm covering his vision. A firm grip. And not a moment later, the shadow from his arm gave way to the blinding light yet again. And a pretty, long-haired boy looking over him that both scared him slightly and gave him a comforting feeling. The boy’s grip on his arm helped keep him grounded, made him utterly aware that he was alive. Struggling to breathe, blinking back another series of tears, and lost staring at the unfamiliar pretty boy, but still alive.





	But I don't want your way, I want mine.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This short one shot is based around the Twenty One Pilots quote “But I don’t want your way, I want mine,” from their song Fall Away taken out of context and wedged into this.. thing. It's my first fanfiction on here, and hopefully not the last. 
> 
> This one is based around Evan's suicide attempt in the State Ellison Park, so tw for that. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you like this! <3

Numbness. 

That was all Evan could feel.

Numbness wasn’t a particularly  _ unfamiliar _ feeling, though it usually stuck in his head, or gave him the lightheaded sensation that made him walk around as if he were as light as a feather floating over the ground in a dream state. The numbness usually didn’t spread to his entire body, and it didn’t  _ usually _ throb and ache and make moving a pain. 

But then again, physical pain gave him something to think about other than the spinning world around him, spinning, spinning, spinning, spinning - why was everything spinning? Why did the light break apart and shine in his eyes, blinding him without any form of mercy? Was this what the afterlife was supposed to be like? Did the light mean the final bliss of death that he’d endlessly hoped for during the aggravatingly slow fall? God, if only. The nauseated, aching, throbbing, endlessly  _ numb _ feeling could possibly be worth it. 

And the numbing hurt. It wouldn’t stop. It was like it had frozen him to the ground, or the air, or wherever his blurred senses were telling him he was. He couldn’t move, but he wasn’t particularly sure if it was because he couldn’t conjure up the will or the strength to move. Evan  _ really _ didn’t want to move. He wanted to lie down in this blindening, fractured abyss until something changed, something that told him he wasn’t alive anymore.

And something did change.

His vision split into total darkness. And with that came an overwhelming amount of senses.

Ringing. Loud ringing in his ears, drowning out his thoughts. Drowning out the rustling of wind through grass and leaves echoing around him. Alone.

Aching. An inability of movement in his left arm. He tried- tried to push his arm out of the slightly overgrown blades of grass tousling his hair in the breeze -but a sharp pain shot from his joint, causing him to audibly wince at the electric shock in his arm.

His voice was raspy, he noticed in the darkness. It was hard to breathe, and it showed in his voice. Evan barely noticed he wasn’t really breathing well until then, and  _ god _ did he sound terrible. Winded, clearly. He could breathe out just fine, but anything more than a short hitched breath in was far too much before his chest gave him a clear sign to not ever try that again. 

Along with that came a choked back sob, which he desperately didn’t want. He was already so, so pathetic to survive, or even try, this, and crying would only make that worse. Plus it would make breathing even harder. Breathing was supposed to be  _ natural _ for living things, so why was he managing to be so terrible at it?

And why hadn’t anyone found him yet?

Evan wasn’t sure when the light came back, slightly dimmed. He wasn’t sure how long he had been lying there, winded and broken and crying in the grass, but it felt like an awfully long time. For all he knew, it could’ve been an hour, or 2, or 30 seconds, or maybe he was already dead and time wasn’t relevant anymore. But something told him that wasn’t quite it.

Maybe it was the sound of distant footsteps, slow and steady. Or maybe he was imagining it. Who knew, maybe he was having auditory hallucinations. Maybe that was a thing with falling from a 40-foot tall oak tree alone in a park. It didn’t take long, though, for the footsteps to speed up. The sound hurt his ears, but at that point, everything was either numb or in excruciating pain. 

_ “Jesus.” _

Evan could hear a voice. He couldn’t see it, and the single word was quiet and slightly fuzzy in his head, but he could make it out anyway. The person sounded masculine and unfamiliar. Though that didn’t give him much of a hint. Lots of people were unfamiliar to him. And he didn’t want any of them to get their first impression of him from him crying in the middle of the State Ellison Park. 

He groaned quietly, forcing himself to use his right arm to shield his eyes from the piercingly bright sun. The small movement took far too much energy and effort for him. 

“Listen for a minute. You’re in a pretty shitty state right now, and you need to get to the hospital,” The voice said slowly, as if this was all brand new information that he wouldn’t have known without the explanation.  _ “But, _ I left my phone at home in a rush to get out. So I’m gonna have to use yours to call the ambulance.”

_ No _ , Evan tried to say.  _ No, no, no, no no no no no _ . But just because he couldn’t get the words out loud enough for anyone who wasn’t sitting right next to him to hear, didn’t mean he wasn’t going to keep on mouthing the word like some sort of silent, frenzied chant. Or at least until he felt a touch on the forearm covering his vision. A firm grip. And not a moment later, the shadow from his arm gave way to the blinding light yet again. And a pretty, long-haired boy looking over him that both scared him slightly and gave him a comforting feeling. The boy’s grip on his arm helped keep him grounded, made him utterly aware that he was alive. Struggling to breathe, blinking back another series of tears, and lost staring at the unfamiliar pretty boy, but still alive. 

“Come on, I’m not leaving you here alone. You don’t seem like you’re in much of a condition to walk out here without some kind of help, anyway. So it’s either I get you to my car and I drive you to the hospital, or you let me use your phone and I call the ambulance and you can get better faster.”

He shook his head quickly, despite how much it made his headache worse. As much as Evan wanted to be around the pretty boy and talk to him, that would mean wasting his time, and he was clearly only talking to him because it was probably the most morally correct thing to do when you found someone collapsed in the middle of a park, all alone. It wasn’t like in any other circumstances the pretty boy would be anywhere near him.

“No no- I- I’m fine,” He managed to say through short, out of control breaths he couldn’t get himself to calm. “I- I just- You don’t have to.” Evan decided on trying to hold his breath after that, the pain in his chest becoming unbearable. But the pretty boy didn’t look very convinced, his electric blue eyes that had a chocolaty brown spot in the corner glancing at his left arm in doubt. Evan had managed to distract himself from  _ that _ pain with the pain of breathing, but truth be told, he hurt everywhere. Everything hurt so much, far too much for him to think about.

“Yeah. Sure. Your arm is fucked, and judging by how far you must’ve fallen, I doubt the rest of you is much better,” The pretty boy loosened his grip on Evan’s arm, moving out of his vision. He tried to tilt his head to look at the boy, but it made breathing even more of a pain, so he instead closed his eyes tight, trying to breathe normally. And when that didn’t turn out to be anything more than a tight chest protesting against any small breath he tried to get in, he opted to just hold his breath. That was at least one of the many pains that would be temporarily stopped, at least. There was still his heartbeat, thundering so loudly he was fairly sure even the pretty boy that he couldn’t see anymore could hear it from wherever he was. And the ringing in his ears, shrill and constant. And the impact shock from landing on the ground that made his entire body numb. And his arm, which was arguably the most painful thing. It hurt to move but it hurt just as much to stay still. It was like a quick shock every time he tried to move, but a quick shock wasn’t always a painless one. 

“You aren’t fine, so don’t bother trying to bullshit me on that one. But I’m letting you choose,” The pretty boy’s voice said from somewhere away from his sight- Evan couldn’t pinpoint it, everything was still pretty fuzzy for him. But at least he hadn’t left altogether. “I find a way to call an ambulance, or you come with me and I take you to the hospital. Okay?”

He shook his head again, using his shaky right hand to help sit himself up as if it’d help prove that he would be okay. “If- if you want me to- to be happy, then let me have my way. J-just.. I don’t know. Forget you saw me. I’ll- I’ll be fine, I’m sure.” 

The brunet still didn’t seem to be buying it. “But I don’t want your way,” He crouched next to Evan, looking at him with eyes both gentle and startling. “I want mine.”

And this time quite literally, the pretty boy swept him off his feet. 

It was hard to tell what exactly was going on in the first place, and the sudden movement made his head spin quite a bit, but Evan could tell that he was being carried above the lush parakeet green grass in the pretty, blue eyed boy’s arms. As much as he hated having to be a bother to him, he couldn’t bring himself to protest. It was already agonistic to breathe, he didn’t want to think about what it would be like to try and go against the boy. So Evan let himself relax-or as close to that as he could get-into his arms, holding his breath unless he really needed to let go for a moment. 

Despite how much he ached, or how shaky he was from shock that he was alive, or how scared he was of not seeing the pretty boy again, he found comfort in the boy’s arms. It didn’t take long for the slow footsteps to lull him to sleep. 

The nameless pretty boy got his way, Evan supposed. And maybe it wasn’t all bad.

**Author's Note:**

> Word Count: 1729
> 
> Thank you so, so much for reading my first story here!! I hope it was good, and if anyone has any requests or ideas or corrections or tips or anything, feel free to share. I'd really appreciate it.
> 
> Anyway, stay safe
> 
> ~synth


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